She Asked
by emilyirisjohanson
Summary: Sarah has grown up, and only remembers the Labyrinth as a dream. She gives the book to her niece, who believes Sarah's dream was very real.


Arren stared out the clear glass of her double doors. Outside the weather was bleak, and there was a promise of rain that never seemed be fulfilled. She breathed a heavy sigh and drew her knees into herself, resting her head gently on them and thinking about something wonderful.

Something wild.

Something better.

A something that never was never anything more. A yearning that never escape from her spirit into human, tangible form. Laying beside her was a large hardcover book, the years obvious in its faded red, nearly pink now, cover. Some of the pages stuck together due to some milk that fell on it when she was six. A few scribbles on the page "This book belongs to______." Frayed edges, its new book smell long gone, this book was loved and loved often.

Arren looked away from the outside world, closed her eyes, and imagined herself standing beside windows like that, in a castle somewhere. Overlooking wide, open land. Where the wind danced through the grass, and everything moved like they were all dancing to their own song. Trees swayed, and it was warm out. The sunlight touched her skin, and the breeze passed through her dark curls, and made her gown wave about like ribbons.

"Auntie Sarah…" A far away voice called. A little one's voice. From many years ago.

Sarah smiled down at the dark haired, blue eyed child tugging at her sleeve. In her hand was the large red book. Sarah breathed in.

"Where did you find that, Arren?" She asked softly, taking the book from her hands and gently opening its contents. Her fingers ran over the pages of illustration. The Goblin King dancing with the Princess, the small dwarf with colorful jewels… She looked back at Arren.

"Why didn't you stay with him, Sarah?" Her small voice echoed.

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked. "I-I was never there…" She looked away. "Its just a fairy tale…"

Arren ran her fingers over the book pages. It was opened up to page 296. An illustration of the Goblin King dancing with a young Princess. She contemplated the words silently. Tossing them back and forth, a storm of questions brewing in her mind. Slowly, still silently, she mouthed her secret. Outside, though Arren had not began to notice, the wind had started brewing. The sky had turned black, and the storm that had been promised arrived in coach. Lighting, and a clap of thunder. The story was beginning, and all that was left were a few small words to start the incredible journey to the Labyrinth.

"I…I wish the Goblin King would come and take me away…"

The double doors sprang open, wind and water charging into the house, overturning papers, tossing over chairs.

"Right now."

All was dark.

Chapter 1

Jareth stared into the crystal, a solemn look on his face. The closest he would ever be to Sarah again, her niece, Arren. A pain began. Like the twisting of a wet rag, so it felt like in his heart as images of Sarah passed through. He had been wringing them out since she left, but still his heart soaked up her face, her smile, and the way the sun tinted her eyes. Hope, like he had never seen, never fading, never ending in them, and all around her. She had given the book to Arren years ago, and Jareth knew it was her closure. Never again would she dream of him. He had revisited her many times in the night as she slept, but now he was no longer welcome, and as Sarah grew older and older, so the memory grew fainter and fainter so that the only truth in Sarah's mind about the Labyrinth was it was a game when she was a girl. Otherwise, she would have never let Arren have that book.

A moan arose from behind him. Jareth turned around to see Arren on the bed. The covers up, nearly over her head, cuddled closely to herself. She was slowly waking up. Jareth stood up and moved closer to the bed, kneeling down beside it to get a better look of her. Freckles decorated her face. Large eyes closed in a happy dream. Her lips half-way open, and a small sound of fitful snoring immersed. Jareth smiled, touching her cheek gently and caressing her features. She looked so much like her. It seemed impossible it couldn't be her, come back to him.

"Sarah…" He whispered almost silently. A small trickle of tears already falling down his face. "Why didn't you stay?"

"Ungh…" Another moan, and Arren began to twist and stretch. Jareth backed away, forming a bubble around her. In an instant she was gone, and the bed was as if no one had ever laid there.

"I will see you in a little while…" He said. Saddened he turned back to his throne and sat down. "Thirteen hours is never enough."

Arren was dreaming happily of that something again. The adventure of a lifetime. However, things were becoming far too real. The dirt was dirty and felt so in her hands. The sky was pale, and the sun was warm. Sounds of moving were far too life like, everything was much, much bigger. Arren's heart began to race. What had she done earlier? She didn't…she couldn't have…this could have been…Quickly she pinched herself.

"Ow!" She jumped. It hurt. Just one more. Maybe it was like when you get stung by a bee in a dream-you feel it. "Ow ow!" She cried again and sat down in the dirt. Her hand ran through her hair. It felt hairy. She felt her face: nothing abnormal. It was real. Where she was…was real.

"Sarah you big fat liar." Arren murmured. "I didn't really think I was right."

A few minutes, or possibly several minutes…could have been an hour even, Arren managed to stand back up and dust herself off. She hadn't woken up. Another sign that she wasn't dreaming. If she truly was in the Labyrinth, it meant she had only 13 hours to make it to the castle or she would be trapped here forever. Suddenly, Arren's heart leaped. It had leaped like this before, but not such a big leap as it was now. Whenever she dreamed of the _something_, it leaped, but now it was as if it leaped right outside her chest and danced as she realized her _something_ was finally more. It was a real something! She walked forward, her feet tingling as it felt the earth under her shoes. She touched everything, she breathed deeply. The air smelt like wet pavement after a storm, and it felt musty. It was very strong, and occasionally Arren had to breathe through her sleeve. As she walked closer to the large Labyrinth double doors, the scent and the musk grew stronger. As Arren looked above her she realized why: outside the Labyrinth the sun shone, but inside there was a horrible storm happening. Lightning flashed and thunder clapped.

Arren slowly walked closer to the double doors, but every time she took one step closer, the door moved two steps farther away.

"Hey!" Arren cried and began running towards the doors. Still, the doors moved even farther and faster away till there was a mile of dirt and strange land between them. "This is impossible." Arren muttered. She glared at the doors so they could know she was upset with them. It didn't matter if they were only doors. They could feel it.

"I believe," A voice from behind Arren called. " That's the point."

Arren turned around quickly and saw a tall man (even taller wearing shoes with small heels. They looked to be from the Victorian age, Arren thought.) His hair was snow white, flared up, and jagged on end. Though he was nearly 15 feet away from Arren, she noticed something odd about his eyes. One appeared darker than the other, and his lips were thin, and drawn in no particular expression. He was wearing a rather nice blue jacket that was longer in the back, on only went to his waist in the front. It appeared to be tailored to him perfectly and would look silly on any other person. His pants were like tights, with a design on them that resembled cracks in fine crystal glass. He stood, holding a riding crop in both his hands and about every other moment or so he tapped it against the palm of one hand.

"Otherwise any girl could waltz right into my Labyrinth, and in a few short hours be right back home." He smirked quickly, the arrogant smile fading just as it began. "Not much of a game in my opinion."

Arren knew who she was meeting. The illustrations in her book were identical to the man-or creature-in front of her. "You are Jareth." She said, still amazed.

Jareth bowed courteously. "Pleasure to meet you, Arren."

Arren breathed in. "How do you know me?" She asked. Jareth smiled and began to, seemingly walk towards Arren, but he passed her and continued to the doors of the Labyrinth. This time, they did not move away. In fact, they opened as if they were bowing before him.

"I know all the girls who come to my land." He began. "They need my permission, and I find it bad taste to not keep up with names and faces." He turned to Arren, and swung his arm out in the direction of the doors. "Arren, you have thirteen hours to solve my Labyrinth. If you don't, you will become one of my servants in the castle," he pointed to the dark castle beyond the Labyrinth. "And oh, I've added a few new twists." He smiled and slowly his figure began to disappear till all that was left was the echo of his last words.


End file.
